The Choice
by Consular
Summary: It wasn't the prophecy that locked down Anakin's fate. It was the fact that everyone believed it. In small pieces throughout Anakin's life.
1. Prelude

0.

You'd think that the pain would cloud his thoughts. That he could spend these his last moments in some ignorant, happy oblivion. But he can still feel the burning, feel the fire as it creeps up on every part of him, and somehow even with this he is thinking more clearly than he has in months. He can see everything.

The man who was once his master stands above him, looking like he is in pain, but he is not the one laying limbless and ignited on the Mustafar sand.

Anakin thinks back to the many times he saved that man standing above him. He used to keep track. He'd remind him of the number every time. Eventually he gave up on that childish game, but he knows the count is at least above fifty.

Obi-Wan does not return the favor. Does not return one fiftieth of it.

"You were the Chosen One," he says with a helplessness that makes Anakin want to laugh, but his body says no, there is too much energy elsewhere, trying to keep him alive even though there's no point in that.

 _Only because you believed it_ , he thinks instead. And he hadn't realized that Obi-Wan believed it. His master never used to speak about it —or about anything, really— and for a while Anakin thought there was at least one person in the world who did not have those ridiculous expectations for him. But maybe it was just hidden, all lies.

And then Obi-Wan destroys that last hope even further, goes blithering on about how he was supposed to destroy the Sith, when no one ever told him how, no one ever showed him that the Jedi way was any better, and then his old master simply outdoes himself and ends with a pathetic— "I loved you."

It should hurt, but Anakin can see the place where his hands used to be and smell his own charred skin, so he has no time for Obi-Wan's selfish words, said only to reconcile his old master with his own guilt and loss. Because Anakin loved, too — he loved so many, so much, except for him it was intemperance, a breach of the Code. But for Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan can love all he wants, for Obi-Wan's sins won't tip the balance of the Force.

Only Anakin's will.

Now Anakin's have, and he wants to laugh in the face of all those who hoped he would fix them, because they were the ones who led him to this. They saw the one who they believed was chosen, and they left him to rot, for the Chosen One must need no help — the Chosen One must be let alone to bring balance unhindered, so long as he follows the Force-forsaken Code, so long as he executes their orders without question or error —

Obi-Wan lets him alone one more time, alone with the fire and the rest of his body beside him.

Is this balance enough?


	2. One

1.

The biggest difference between the Temple and Tatooine is that it's a lot cleaner here.

People give him dirty looks when he walks out of the gardens, trailing mud behind him, and it's only their expressions that make him realize he's even doing it at all. On Tatooine, mud was never much of a concern. There was only sand, and there was no use trying to keep the sand out of anything, anyway.

In fact, he's pretty sure that Obi-Wan is really annoyed by the mud, too, except Obi-Wan manages to keep his eyes away from accusatory. At most, they're frustrated. But, mostly, they're sad. The one time he tracked mud into Obi-Wan's quarters, Anakin wiped it up himself because of that look, except he mainly just smeared it everywhere, but he's pretty sure Obi-Wan got the intent behind the gesture.

No one else here does, really.

Today he sits on a bed that's the nicest bed he's ever slept on, but it's not that special because there are twenty other people in this room that have the exact same one. He's not used to sleeping in the same room as anyone but his mother, and he's certainly not used to everything being this uniform, all in cool colors. Tatooine was colored dusty warm to match the planet itself. Here, it's white, navy, deep burgundy, silver. And what he gets from that is that this planet isn't real.

All the other kids form a circle on the central carpet, sitting with their legs in lotus position, their knees bumping into each other. Anakin was a bit late on the uptake — he didn't realize that the clanmaster's two brisk claps meant it was time to gather that way, and by the time he thought about following, they were already in that perfect little circle. It isn't even lopsided. But it doesn't matter; there's no space for his own gangly knees, and if he were to push his way in, he'd ruin the symmetry of the circle.

The clanmaster looks at him briefly, then looks away. She starts to speak. He doesn't even remember her name; he doesn't feel guilty about it. He was told that he'd be free here, but she has just as many orders as Watto ever had to give, just they're not about ship parts and they're cloaked in prettier speak.

"Do you remember the things we discussed yesterday about diplomacy?" she is asking, and Anakin tunes her out right then. Yes, he remembers. Well, pretty much. Because he heard that yesterday from her, and the day before sitting in that stupid _desk_ because it was a _class_ or something that Obi-Wan made him take, and a week before that he'd heard all about it from Obi-Wan himself, who really seemed to care about it, though Anakin can't fathom why.

Then again, he doesn't really get a lot of things that Obi-Wan does. Like how Anakin is technically a padawan, not a clan member, but apparently he's too young to come live in Obi-Wan's quarters just yet. Obi-Wan keeps saying he won't treat Anakin like he's special, but everyone else does. Everyone else makes this _face_ when they see him. He hates it.

So he stares out the window while the other kids stare at their clanmaster. He hasn't really gotten used to seeing a city when he looks out of a building, especially not one made of metal. There is so much movement and he's pretty sure that, if the Temple were built any worse, it'd be deafening, too. But instead the Temple is built too well and what's deafening are the people's stares, the way he can feel them thinking about him in a way he can't really explain. Obi-Wan calls it the Force, but Anakin has known it all his life and never had a name for it, and he's not quite ready to call it what they call it yet. He's not one of them, even though he's supposed to be. They don't make him feel like it.

"Excuse me?"

Anakin feels a slight poke in the Force, or in the sense that he doesn't really know how to explain, and when he turns one of the kids —okay, he's supposed to say _initiates—_ has his hands in opposite sleeves and his back drawn up straight. Anakin looks him over, doesn't say anything.

"I am Novem Riis," the kid says with a high-up confidence. His lekku twitch. "I come as a servant of the Republic."

Anakin had to deal with kids like this on Tatooine. "Go away," he says.

"I want to establish peaceful negotiations," Novem says.

"I'm not a _game_ ," Anakin says. He would say it a little louder, except Obi-Wan keeps telling him that Jedi don't yell.

But the Twi'lek's brow furrows. "I'm not playing," he says, sounding hurt. "I want to know why you're here."

"What?"

"You're as young as us, but no one ever saw you before last month, and you've got a braid so you should be staying with a master." The kid's voice lowers. "But you don't _act_ like a padawan. With respect. You drag mud in and you don't take _baths_. Or pay attention."

"I'm going to be a Jedi," Anakin says, and turns his face away. "That's why I'm here."

"No, you have to respond diplomatically!" Novem follows his line of sight around in a flurry. "I'm following protocol. I even said 'with respect.' Master Ysi said that was for difficult situations."

"Then you're not a really good diplomat, are you?"

Novem's eyes narrow, and there is a pause which makes Anakin a bit scared. He doesn't want to make anyone here mad, but everyone is making him mad and he can't really help it.

"You're an even worse Jedi," Novem says. He turns to walk away, then stops for a second and adds, "Your sash isn't tied properly."

Anakin almost lets him leave.

Almost.

"You son of a gundark!"

There is a collective gasp as all of the kids —and the clanmaster— look at him with horror. And then there is a tightening of the Force or whatever it is, as Novem draws himself up to a fuller height.

"I'm a fine diplomat," he says. "I won't respond to your aggression. I've already analyzed the situation anyway. You're not of a higher rank, not really, and you're not a threat. If you were actually a padawan, you'd have a lightsaber."

And Anakin pounces. He tackles the kid to the ground and sits on him. He holds back from punching because he knows that Obi-Wan will make that face if he does. "Assess it now," he spits at the kid.

Before he can do anything else, the clanmaster has already pulled him off of Novem and is pushing him toward the nearest wall with the Force, because it is the Force to her, and all the initiatives have drawn themselves back and are staring at him like he's on the Dark Side that everyone likes to talk about like they're scared of it.

"Padawan Skywalker," the clanmaster says, " _stay there_."

.

.

.

When Obi-Wan comes back into the room, he doesn't even look at Anakin before he sinks down fast into the old sofa and puts his elbows on his knees. His head goes into his hands, too, for a moment.

He's taking too long, so Anakin tries a question. He can't help himself. "Are you mad?"

"I'm reserving judgement until you explain."

Anakin is taken aback. "I get to?"

And that surprises Obi-Wan, who looks up and frowns. "Of course you do," he says. "In fact, I am sorely hoping that Master Ysi is terribly mistaken and that you have an explanation to justify what just happened."

"Um." Anakin is sitting on the carpet and twisting threads of it in his fingers. He stares down at it instead of at Obi-Wan. "I have an explanation, but she didn't think it counted."

"Perhaps I will have a different view."

"Um."

"I'm waiting, Anakin."

It's said gently, but it spurs Anakin into action all the same, and, not taking his eyes of the carpet, he lets his mouth run. "They've all looked at me weird since I came here, and until now they wouldn't say anything if I didn't really bug them. So I didn't bug them. And I wouldn't really pay attention —or, I'd pay attention, just, not to them— and it was nice because I could pretend they weren't there. But then today Masterwhatshername was talking to them about _diplomacy_ , and I wasn't listening—" He glances up at Obi-Wan warily. "—because you already talked about it, and then after, one of them came over and started using the diplomacy stuff on me like I was someone dangerous from another planet. And, I mean, I am from another planet and I did blow up that ship and stuff so I think he should think I'm dangerous, 'cause I'm gonna be a _Jedi_ and all, but the way he said it was so mean. I've been here for more than a month and he doesn't ask until he thinks he's got a way not to make me mad, but he really made it worse."

"And?" Obi-Wan prompts. So far, his expression is neutral, which Anakin takes as reassuring, since the alternative is not pleasant.

"Then he said I couldn't get mad because he was using the fancy words. But because he made me mad I figured he can't be a very good diplomat—" Anakin has no idea why Obi-Wan is kinda grinning, but he plows on before he clams up and stops. "—so I told him that, and then he said that I was an even worse Jedi. And then he said that my sash was tied wrong —is it, Ob-um, Master?— and so I called him a son of a gundark. That was bad. But then he said I wasn't really a padawan so I forgot and I jumped on him."

Obi-Wan sighs.

"And he also said I wasn't a threat, so I really wanted to show him that I _was_ a threat, but I didn't. I just sat there. I didn't hit him or anything. I promise."

"I suppose we must celebrate our small victories."

"Yeah?" Anakin agrees, uncertainly. He's not sure what that means. And when Obi-Wan doesn't say anything, he keeps talking, because suddenly there is a rush of emotion building up in his throat and he wants to get it all out. He hadn't realized that he cared this much until just now, when Obi-Wan started looking at him with that _sad_ look that's maybe not sad, just kind of weird and confused and maybe a bit disappointed, but like Obi-Wan is disappointed in someone that's not Anakin. Maybe himself. And that stupid look always makes Anakin want to talk and talk until it goes away, even though when he talks he only ever seems to make it last longer.

"They all looked at me so funny, Master." He's managed to say the right word this time. He hopes that counts for something. "And they're all from different planets — the one who talked to me was Twi'lek, and I'm pretty sure there was a Mon Cal boy too. I've never even met a Mon Cal before, Master, but I'm the only one who gets treated like I'm from another planet. They make it so that I don't even want them to like me, which is even worse because I know it means I don't care, and I used to think that all Jedi were worth caring about. But I don't think they are what I thought they were."

He's breathless, now, and so he stops and looks up at Obi-Wan.

"Jedi are not often what we hope them to be," Obi-Wan says very softly. "They are servants of the Force, not others' opinions."

"Is that a good enough explanation?"

"It doesn't excuse anything. Insults and physical assault are not proper means of dealing with conflict." Obi-Wan sighs again. "But it provides context."

Anakin pauses and digests the words. "Does context mean I have to go back?"

"Anakin—"

"Obi-W—Master, please. They don't think I'm a padawan because I'm not living with you, and I know I'm young but I promise I won't bring in mud or anything. I'll always check. I don't think I can handle sleeping in there anymore because they're so _loud_ at night, loud about me, and not because they're talking about me but because I can feel it. In the Force or whatever. And I hate it because I'm not worse than them anymore. I'm not a slave, I'm a padawan, and that's more than they are, and I thought I was supposed to be chosen but they make it seem like I'm last choice—"

"Anakin."

"I really don't want to go back."

Obi-Wan looks unsure. His hand rises unconsciously and lands under his ear and tries to grab at something but only finds air, and he frowns so small it could almost be just Anakin's mind. But then Anakin's hand goes up to that place, too, in curiosity, except his hand runs into his padawan braid, and he realizes what Obi-Wan is missing.

But Obi-Wan is a Jedi Knight, now; Obi-Wan doesn't have the braid because he earned not having it. And Anakin is the opposite. Anakin has it, but he might as well not, because no one seems to think it means anything on him. And if he can't even live with his master, then that probably means he hasn't earned it. He's just getting it because he's chosen, which doesn't make any sense, because even his master is not choosing him.

But then—

"You can stay here," Obi-Wan says.

And Anakin doesn't even believe it for a second, because luck has never been this nice to him. Usually once he realizes how bad something is, it stays that way. But finally he figures it out and leaps up and hugs Obi-Wan. He bounces back just as soon as he does it, though, because he's not sure whether that's okay, now that he's actually a padawan. But Obi-Wan reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, and it feels warm in the Force, so it has to be kinda okay, at least.

"This is wizard!" he says, because suddenly he can feel excited again. "Thanks, Master. I'm gonna be the best padawan ever. No mud."

But Obi-Wan doesn't smile at that. "Anakin, wait a moment."

Anakin's stomach drops. There are conditions. There are always conditions, and now he is afraid that maybe there will still be some agreement that means he's not quite a padawan, just someone living in the same room because Obi-Wan pities him.

"I never meant for you to experience the initiates' distrust," his master says.

"What?" No, that doesn't sound like a condition. It almost sounds like an apology. Watto never apologized.

"Their conduct was just as unacceptable as yours was. So we'll say it cancels out. But I did not expect any Temple initiates to act in the way that they did towards you, and perhaps it was a lack of foresight on my part. I want you to know that you stayed there not because you were not fully my padawan, but because I believed you would enjoy it there. Most Jedi look upon their initiate years with fondness. The clan lifestyle is tailored to those your age. My quarters aren't. There isn't anything in here." Obi-Wan makes a face. "Or any windows."

"Oh." Anakin stares at him. "I — I get it, I think. It's okay."

His master gives him a long, long look. "Shall we start anew?"

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea, Master."

"...Then, Padawan, I believe I should show you how to tie that sash."

And that night, it feels good sleeping in a bed not surrounded by all the others and the chatter of their thoughts, but it feels weird and a little scary, too. Because he was so different from them that he was forced apart from them, and that has to mean that he is chosen, somehow. He has a feeling if he were supposed to turn out normal, they would all make him get through things the normal way. He can tell this isn't the way he's supposed to go, because this bed is really big, meant for someone much taller than him, and he misses that view of Coruscant. He liked seeing the ships. And here there is no loudness in the Force for him to hide his own worries under, because Master Obi-Wan is silent, an absolute silken stretch of peace, or maybe just good at covering things. But that means the only thoughts that are broadcasted in Anakin's mind are Anakin's, and for the very first time he gets a little scared that it will always be this way, just him and the windowless walls of a room that wasn't meant to hold him. And if that's what chosen is, he wants everyone to stop choosing him.

* * *

 _Reviews are appreciated!_


End file.
